#oc galicia

[owlrolls]

Doodles from old sideblog

[dino-i]

Basic Concept Art of Comunidades Autónomas de España bc I felt like it

I def want to redo some outfits :(

[lillazyboithings]

Still no fandom art from me but I finally had the motivation to redesign my old ocs and draw this artwork for them

The one in the portrait is Adonis, the older brother, and the one with the beanie who's scratching up the portrait is Galicia, the younger sibling.

[steamingowl]

It's Octopus party in my city and tbh I'm having a blast. Have my OC Lúa enjoying it as well!! Feliz San Froilán yoooh

[robotic-poet]

oc stuff. what if your college situationship revives you after you die and she is sure you came back wrong but you're just Some Guy

[satelliteliteee]

~⭐︎

[askgoldengaming00]

Vroom Vroom 🏍️

[smoooothoperator]

Die With A Smile

02: Believer

Bucky Barnes x mutant!OC (Astrid Rowan)

HYDRA victims, found family, strangers to lovers, emotional scars, first love

Masterlist

previous part | next part

a/n: How is everyone going? Right now I'm with mixed feelings. I am writing this story just because I really love this character and I have been planning this story for a while, but I feel that the feedback is so small. Still, I won't stop writing, because right now this story keeps many thoughts away from what is happening right now in my country.

🇪🇸Si eres español e incluso de Valencia y me estas leyendo, de verdad espero que estés bien. Desde Galicia mandamos muchos ánimos y estamos ayudando todo lo que podemos.

Please, help Valencia.

I ran my fingers over the fabric of the dress, feeling the material between my fingertips. It was red with subtle detailed designs knitted into the fabric. The cloth felt strange against my skin, so different from the tight dark clothing I was used to. Wearing something this bright felt like I was stepping into another identity, one far away from HYDRA’s shadows.

My gaze moved to the lavender flower on the bedside table. The scent of it had filled the room all night, lingering in the air a gentle reminder that I was far from Siberia, far from the quarters where I had been kept locked all my life. I picked it up and inhaled the calming fragrance, surprised at the way it eased the tension in my shoulders, softened the lingering edges of fear. 

I slipped into the dress, adjusting the fabric down over my body. As I fixed the dress over my shoulders, I caught sight of myself in the mirror across the room. The reflection stared back, a stranger in red with tired eyes and unfamiliar traces of peace on her face. This dress felt almost like an armor, and I found myself straightening my back and pulling back my shoulders, feeling both exposed and, oddly, protected.

There were three soft knocks at the door, a quiet and respectful sound. But even if the door didn’t open, I froze, feeling how my instincts still acted for survival.

“Astrid, are you ready?” Shuri. That made me calm down, only a little bit.

I took a deep breath while I looked at the mirror one last time and moved away from it to open the door. Shuri greeted me with a smile, her eyes bright with curiosity and something like approval. She looked me up and down, nodding as if I did something right simply by choosing to wear that red dress.

“I knew red would look good on you” she smiled. “Come on, we’re a little late. You’re about to meet some pretty important people: my brother, my mother… and a friend”

“A friend?” I frowned, feeling the anxiety grow in my blood.

“Just come” she smiled, placing her hand on my shoulder and guiding me.

I followed her through the hallway, each step feeling like a reminder that I was free, walking in a place with open doors and windows, with sunlight filtering through in bright golden beams. The cool stone beneath my feet grounded me as I passed walls adorned with patterns and art I can't understand, glimpses of technology so neat and advanced that felt like a dream.

The hallway opened up into a large, open room with high ceilings and walls that let the light of the outside bright every corner of it. I was half lost in the view of the city outside the windows when I caught sight of them, the three figures standing near the far end of the room.

A man with a powerful, steady presence, dressed in black fancy clothes, was looking at me with quiet authority. Beside him, a woman stood with her head held high, her gaze deep and confident, and at the same time she looked calm, I could feel her intensity even from across the room. And then, a third figure, a man whose face I didn’t recognize. He was blond, with a well built body, eyes that held a quiet vigilance and, maybe, a hint of concern as he looked my way.

“Who’s that?” I whispered to Shuri, my attention shifting to the blond man.

“That’s… complicated” she replied, a half smile playing on her lips. “But you don’t have to worry. I wouldn’t bring you here if you weren’t safe”

I nodded, though uncertainty pressed against my thoughts, a tension rising as I wondered what he, and any of them, could possibly want with me.

“Astrid Rowan” the man dressed in purple said, his voice cutting into my thoughts, making me feel strange hearing that name and feeling how my body reacted positively to it. His words are firm but welcoming. “Thank you for meeting with us. I’m T’Challa. This is my mother, and he is Steve Rogers” 

His eyes met mine and he extended his hand in greeting, a gesture so genuine I almost forgot to move. I reached forward, feeling a strange shift within me. I took his hand, curious with this gesture, feeling somehow foreign to this. And the moment he firmly squeezed my hand, moving it up and down, I followed the movement with an unfamiliar feeling.

“Thank you” I managed to say, my voice firm though the words felt strange in my mouth.

T'Challa gave a small nod, signaling toward a set of seats arranged around a low table.

“Please, make yourself comfortable” he said, his tone respectful.

I hesitated, watching them take their places. Every instinct urged me to remain standing, ready to escape if needed. But the woman’s gaze softened, her eyes quietly encouraging, and something in the room felt… safe. Safer than anything I knew, which wasn’t much.

I sat down slowly, smoothing the dress over my knees, the red fabric vivid against the white of the chair. My fingers clenched the hem, grounding myself as if I could anchor myself in this unfamiliar place. Shuri slipped into the seat beside me, an unreadable but encouraging expression on her face.

“Astrid, I understand this must feel strange, even overwhelming. You’ve come a long way to be here, and we don’t intend to rush you. But there are things we hope to understand about you, your experiences… and your gifts.” T’Challa’s voice was calm and steady, and somehow the way he talked to me made me feel calm and pay attention. “You were with HYDRA. We know of their… methods, and the ways they manipulate those they capture. Anything you can share may help us uncover what they did”

I shifted in my seat, glancing at Shuri, whose face gave away nothing. Then my gaze moved to the man she introduced as her friend. His eyes held mine with a gentleness that made me uneasy, a caution that set me on edge. I wasn’t used to being studied without malice behind it.

“My gifts?” I repeated, my voice barely a murmur. 

The word felt wrong, like it didn’t belong to me. I didn’t know what they were beyond uncertain flashes, instincts that had somehow kept me alive. I wasn’t even sure what my “gifts” truly were, or if they were mine at all.

“Yes” the queen spoke, her voice calm and assured. “The abilities you possess. Wakanda is familiar with powers beyond the ordinary, as well as everything that comes with them. We hope you might feel open to sharing, whenever you feel ready.”

I clenched my hands together, keeping my gaze on my fingers. What was I supposed to tell them? That I was a puzzle with pieces missing or deformed, with only fragments of half formed memories? I couldn’t even tell them what I was or what HYDRA had tried to make me become.

“Astrid, I know you don’t know me, but I’ve seen HYDRA’s work before” Steve Roger’s voice cut in, soft. He paused, a flicker of something dark in his eyes. “Whatever you’re able to tell us, we’re here to listen.”

I forced myself to meet his eyes, feeling something unexpectedly familiar sparking there, like he knew something of what I felt, though I was certain I had never seen him before. Still, there was an openness in his expression, something that made my defenses come down, just slightly.

 “I… I don’t remember much” I said, taking a deep breath and glancing down again. The words tasted foreign. “HYDRA… they erased most of it. I remember pain, machines, and voices giving commands I couldn’t ignore.” I hesitated, unwilling to go further, the memories pressing too close, too jagged. “I escaped,” I managed finally, my voice almost a whisper “but I don’t know how or why I ended up here.”

T'Challa paid attention to my words, his gaze serious and respectful. He exchanged a glance with his sister, as if some silent understanding passed between them.

“What I can tell you,” Shuri said, her voice careful while she placed her hand on my shoulder. “is that they experimented on you in ways that affected you… deeply. From the scans I ran, your abilities… they may have been manipulated or… amplified by their experiments.” She paused, her eyes changed now to a determined gaze. “But the control they had over your powers are no longer there . You might even be able to reclaim them as your own”

I tensed, feeling the weight of her words. Control? Did she think I wanted this? Or that I had a choice?

 “Astrid, HYDRA took a lot from us… but they don’t have the right to take away who you are. You’re free now” Steve said with a soft voice, and I could understand that HYDRA did something to him too.

Free. The word settled in my chest, and I clenched my fists, feeling a shiver of something moving beneath my skin. I wasn’t sure if I could ever feel free. I looked around the room again, at T’Challa’s steady calm, at the Queen’s reassuring presence, at Shuri’s quiet curiosity and Steve’s searching gaze.

The word free hung in the air, feeling almost real.

“Then… tell me more” I said, my voice quiet but firm, feeling a small spark of confidence. “About them. About me. And about these things they forced on me”

The sun was warm, casting a golden glow over the streets of Wakanda’s city. As we stepped into the noisy market, I felt my heartbeat going faster, my earlier tension fading away with each step. 

The city around me was alive, voices called out in languages I didn’t know, laughter and music blending in the air. 

I looked at Shuri and T'Challa beside me, watching the way people greeted them with a gesture I never saw before, crossing their arms over their chests and bowing their heads with a deep respect. The sight of it made me stop for a moment. I hadn’t been greeted in years, let alone with kindness or respect. But here, people didn’t just greet the royalty, they noticed me, too. A few curious glances passed over me, but they were warm, gentle, not the sharp stares I was used to from the doctors. Shuri noticed me watching, a small smile on her face as she nudged my shoulder.

"Come on, Astrid. Let us show you around" she said, pointing to a row of stands covered in fabrics of every color imaginable.

A flash of bright purple caught my eye, and I found myself drifting over to a stand that sells women's clothes. I reached out to touch one, surprised by the soft texture beneath my fingers.

"Is this… silk?" I asked, running my hand along the fabric.

The vendor nodded with a kind smile, answering me in a language I couldn’t understand. I let it slip between my fingers like water, unable to stop myself from smiling. 

I moved from stand to stand, feeling the excitement growing with every new thing I discovered. The jewelry that hung like stars, the scent of spices that made my nose tickle, fruits that were so bright they looked like they’d been painted.

At one point, I caught T'Challa’s eye, and he gave me a small nod, encouraging. I felt an unexpected thrill as I spun around, noticing even more of the market. Children ran by, laughing as they chased each other, and their energy felt like it sparked something awake inside me.

As we walked further into the streets, the sights kept unfolding before me like a dream. Artists painting on fabric, musicians playing instruments that looked like something from another world.. I reached out to touch a carved wooden figure of an animal, tracing the smooth, dark wood with my fingers, marveling at the details etched into its body.

“You like it?” T'Challa’s voice was calm, warm.

“What is it?” I asked, curious with the figure, not knowing what animal it was.

“A panther” he smiled.

 “It’s beautiful” I murmured. “Everything here is beautiful.”

A little boy ran towards us, holding out a flower he picked from a nearby store, a wide smile on his face. His mother hurried over, apologizing and scolding him gently, but T'Challa simply took the flower with a gracious nod, passing it to me while he talked with the little boy in another language.

“He said that it’s for you and only you” he said, a trace of laughter in his voice.

My fingers closed around the delicate rose while I looked at the boy, and somehow my body worked on its own, bringing my arms to my chest and crossing them, doing the same gesture I saw Shuri and T’Challa do no longer ago. And to my surprise, the little boy did the same, looking at me with big eyes before walking away with his mother.

I looked back at T'Challa and Shuri, who were both watching me with patient smiles. They weren’t rushing me, weren’t demanding anything from me. They were just… here. Walking with me, showing me this new world.

“I never knew anything like this could exist” I whispered, more to myself than to them.

 “There’s much more to see. And… much more we can show you, if you’re willing” she said, her voice gentle.

“Yes, please” I smiled, playing with a strain of my hair.

I looked around at the streets bustling with life, feeling the flower between my fingers. We kept walking around, going to the stands and exploring the streets, discovering new things, new scents, new forms.

As we drifted through the streets, a flash of movement caught my eye near the edge of the street, making my instinct go on and stand defensive.

Something small walked through a spot of sunlight, tail raised high as it moved gracefully. I stopped in my tracks, watching as it stretched and then settled into a pool of light.

Then, a pair of golden eyes met mine.

“What… what is that?” I asked, barely more than a whisper.

“That,” Shuri chuckled, pointing at the animal “is a cat.”

“A cat?” I frowned.

“Yes” she nodded, surprised, looking back at her brother. “You’ve never seen one?”

“No… it’s beautiful” I said, shaking my head slowly, unable to look away. The cat tilted its head, as if it was curious about me, and then began to clean one of its front paws, licking it delicately with a tiny pink tongue.

There was something quietly wise about the way the cat looked at me, unafraid and almost knowing. Its calmness in my presence was strangely comforting, and I found myself wanting to reach out, to touch its soft looking fur.

“Go on” Shuri smiled, her voice gentle, like she could sense my hesitation. “Cats can be curious but are often friendly, especially here in Wakanda. We believe they bring good luck.”

I took a step forward and kneeled on the ground, extending my hand slowly. The cat paused its previous activity and watched me approach, unbothered, as if allowing me the privilege of its presence. Its eyes followed my hand as I extended it a few inches away, and I held my breath.

The cat moved closer, gave my fingers a light sniff, and then, very unexpectedly, rubbed its head against my palm. The fur was even softer than I imagined. My fingers twitched, and I began to stroke along its back.

The cat let out a soft, rumbling sound, a sort of rhythmic vibration that seemed to fill the air between us. I looked back at Shuri and T’Challa, confused, and they just gave me a smile back.

“It’s purring” he said, laughing softly. “It means it likes you.”

I turned back to the cat, watching as it curled itself around my hand, still purring, the sound comforting and low. I had never known anything so small could be so gentle, so warm. The cat rubbed against me one last time, curling the tail around my wrist, and took a step away, turning around and walking slowly away.

There was something freeing about that little creature, moving through life with ease, no shackles, no fear. I stood slowly, feeling a softness settle over me as if the cat had left a quiet blessing in its wake.

“They have a way of making you feel grounded, don’t they?” Shuri smiled, placing her hand on my shoulder.

The vehicle hummed softly beneath me, a sound so gentle it was almost soothing, if it weren’t for the fact that I was sitting in an actual flying machine. My knuckles were white where I gripped the seat, my fingers pressing into the cool leather as I tried not to glance too much at the windows. Outside, the sky was a deep, endless blue, stretching on in all directions as if we were the only thing in it. My heartbeat thrummed along with the sound of the jet, a mixture of fear and something that felt a little too much like wonder.

It wasn’t like the planes HYDRA used, there was no roaring engine, no bulky metal frame. This was sleek, smooth, quiet. Too quiet. 

I swallowed, catching a glimpse of T’Challa and Shuri, both looking so at ease, as if they flew a thousand times in this thing. Shuri caught my eye and gave me a little grin.

“First time?” she asked, her voice casual, but I could see the curiosity in her eyes.

 “Feels…strange” I admitted, glancing at the controls in front of her, lights blinking softly in patterns. “I never thought… It’s like I’m floating”

“Wakandan jets are special” Shuri said, leaning toward me, her tone warm and friendly. “It’s almost like the jet does half the work. Just think of it as an extension of you, it’s not so scary once you know that.”

I nodded, though the idea of a jet being an extension of me felt almost laughable. But somehow, the way she said it made it a little easier to breathe. T’Challa, sitting across from us, gave a slow nod of approval, his calm presence anchoring me.

After a few minutes, the world outside began to shift. Green forests, mountains  against the horizon, and far below, rivers running free. I almost forgot my panic, leaning closer to the window to take it all in. It was beautiful. Wild, untouched in a way I’d never seen. Not in the cold, empty spaces of Siberia. This was alive. And then I saw it, an animal with its mouth wide open showing their teeth.

“A panther?” I asked, looking back at T’Challa, remembering the small wooden figure I saw in the market, that was now in a small bag hanging across my body.

“It’s our symbol” he nodded.

The jet began to descend toward the mountains, toward a building that seemed almost hidden in the rocks. The landing was as smooth as silk, barely a bump, but still, my breath caught. Then the doors opened, and I stepped out onto solid ground with a sense of relief that was almost embarrassing.

“This way” T’Challa said, gesturing toward the entrance of the building, his voice soft filled with a laugh.

Shuri walked ahead, looking back over her shoulder to make sure I was following, as if sensing that each step brought a new wave of unease mixed with a thrill of curiosity. I followed them down a series of hallways, filled with a kind of soft, ambient light that seemed almost calming and welcoming.

“Welcome to the Heart of Wakanda” Shuri smiled, her voice filled with enthusiasm. “This is where we conduct research, develop technology, and, well, keep an eye on the universe”

She led me past rows of tidy workstations, all of them filled with high tech things and holographic screens. Every device looked as if it belonged to another planet, not in a real laboratory. I couldn’t help but reach out to touch one of the panels, a shimmering surface that lit up under my fingers.

“Careful with that!” Shuri laughed, pulling my hand back gently. “That’s a prototype for a new energy source. We don’t want it going off unexpectedly!”

“Energy source?” I echoed, my voice almost a whisper. It was like I’d stepped into a dream where anything was possible.

“Yes! We use the energy of vibranium, and we’re working on ways to make it more efficient. This will help power our cities and protect Wakanda from external threats.” She paused, eyes bright with passion. “But there’s more. Come with me!”

T’Challa walked beside us, observing with a soft smile as Shuri led me further into the lab. She gestured to a large glass chamber filled with some type of liquid. I looked carefully at it, watching how the bubbles moved around in a hypnotic way.

 “This is where we conduct advanced medical research” she explained. “We’re developing ways to enhance the healing properties of vibranium, not just for our warriors but for everyone.”

“You can do that?” I asked surprised, looking at her like she had some type of magic in her hands.

 “Of course! Healing is as much a part of our technology as combat is. We want to protect our people, body and soul” she nodded, looking at the liquid too.

We continued down the corridor, passing by a series of doors that led to rooms filled with unfamiliar machines, tools, and what looked like training simulations. My heart raced with a mix of excitement and anxiety.

“Do you want to see where we develop our combat technology?” Shuri asked, noticing my curiosity.

I nodded slowly, following her movements with my eyes, looking back at T’Challa, searching for his approval.

“Here’s where we test our suits and weapons” Shuri said proudly, activating a holographic display that lit up the room. “We’re always looking to improve our gear.”

My breath caught as I watched a hologram of a suit materialize before me, the design intricate and flowing. It was completely black, with purple lines of it and a texture that made the whole suit shine.

“It’s beautiful” I whispered looking at it, looking at the silver necklace.

The hum of the lab felt like it was vibrating inside me, a strange resonance that settled deep in my chest. Shuri’s voice drifted in and out as she explained something about the vibranium, but my mind wasn’t fully there. 

Instead, something else was disturbing my senses. A voice, deep and raspy, as if someone was whispering through the wind.

“Aetheris…”

I turned my head slowly, blinking, trying to shake the feeling. The voice came again, almost impossible to hear but strangely…familiar.

“Aetheris…”

It was closer this time, like a thread pulling me forward, and I couldn't help but follow. My footsteps echoed through the lab as I moved away from the main workspace, slipping down a quiet corridor where the hum of machinery was softer.

I could feel it, like a pulse. I barely noticed T'Challa and Shuri calling after me, my attention locked on the voice that whispered in my mind.

The voice led me, guiding me down a path lined with doors and lights, each step pulling me closer to something. Or someone.

I stopped outside a large door, different from the others, feeling an inexplicable pressure in the air around it. The voice was strongest here, a murmur just out of reach, fading in and out as if whoever was calling me was barely holding on. My hand trembled as I reached for the door, only placing my fingers on it to watch it open slowly.

In the center of the room, lying in a glass capsule, was a person. I stepped forward, the pull I felt growing almost unbearable now, filling me with something I couldn’t name.

I moved closer until I could see the man lying in the chamber. He was still, his face peaceful and resting, his hair falling over his forehead in loose strands. He looked as if he were caught in some eternal dream, waiting for something.

Something in my chest tightened as I looked at him, a strange ache that felt too real to ignore. His face stirred memories I couldn't place, pieces of dreams I didn’t know I had. 

My fingers touched the glass carefully as the whisper of the voice echoed again in my mind, soft and insistent.

“Who are you” I whisper.

taglist

@alltoomaples @jadeofspadesxp @leptitlu @deliciousfestsalad @mendes-bae

[breoasis]

outfit "designing" for my beloved oc Iria whom i've been thinking about lately (playing dress up with my dolls), refs and notes below the cut :]

References: some paintings, some old photographs and some pictures from actual traditional clothing stores. If anybody is interested in the sources hmu, i just don't want to put the links to everything under here

Now for the outfits: my plan was simply to have fun while maybe coming up with some clothing that i would like to draw her in more often. I want to explain a little bit about a few of these so there you go

1) Firstly, there's a fully black traditional dress. I decided to choose this one out of the many variations of what is seen today as "traditional clothing" in Galicia, as most of them are what common people would wear everyday, and Iria, coming from a wealthy and noble family, would definitely not, so the black one with intricate details, jewelry and velvet suits her better, even though wealthy people would rather wear more pompous dresses i believe. Anyway, she doesn't live in the city and doesn't leave the house much so she isn't keeping up with the new trends in fashion.

I put these together very quickly for and easy visual comparison of what i was trying to explain:

2) The two dresses in the upper right corner are referenced from two of the paintings i put on the second picture, just for fun, i think she looks cute on those :] I might even redraw those but with Iria as a subject

3) A couple nightgowns on the bottom row. The second one reminds me a lot of Gavi's outfit when i draw him as an angel, which wasn't intentional (i realised it as i was painting the bow thing around the neck ) but it makes a cool parallel that can be relevant for the plot even... subconscious lore...... who would have thought of that..

4) I also added a modern outfit because i was running out of ideas and wanted to try and think of something she would wear nowadays

5) oc lore: she's wearing a veil covering her head most of the time, both for fashion purposes and because her mother "forces" her to do it ever since she shaved her head

Anyway, she doesn't even take part in the "current events" in the story and is nothing more than a dream and a memory of a past time, but here i am designing outfits for her instead of the multiple other character who actually make a difference in the plot..... one could say she's the class favorite (true)

[dolceminerva97]

Holis, esto es una pregunta de dos partes. Espero que no sea molestia.

1- Recuerdo ver en uno de tus cómics que mencionas que Tina es de padres humanos. Creo que también dijiste que estos padres serían españoles cierto? Me interesa saber como explorarías este tema. ¿Como eran sus padres? Si es que tienes eso datos claro. ¿De que región de España inmigraron? Se que mencionaste también que Tina vio a Antonio como una figura paterna pero no tienen relación sanguínea. ¿Antonio sabía esto? ¿Fue tu intención darles paletas similares?

2- Está segunda pregunta viene de la pregunta previa. Me gusta la diversidad entre tus personajes, pero igual me interesa como eliges caracterizar a Tina. Es una mujer muy hermosa, y me interesa si también haces esto que hacen muchos Oc de que cierto aspectos físicos representen cosas del país. Si es el caso, ¿cuáles serían estos atributos?

Ojalá esto no sea molestia o que llegue a ser medio ignorante ;-;

Bueno ojalá que estes teniendo buen día!

Tu ask me inspiró a hacer este dibujito! Es algo super sencillo porque no quería complicarme con sus ropas de época, solo dar una idea de cómo lucían.

Tristán proviene de Galicia, porque quería reflejar de algún modo lo significativa que es la comunidad gallega y su presencia en Argentina. SIN EMBARGO!!! esto no quiere decir que los gallegos eran la mayoría de los españoles durante el período de colonización, de hecho la inmigración gallega masiva es un fenómeno que ocurre siglos después. Para esta época, los gallegos no eran los colonizadores y pobladores más abundantes, pero haberlos, habían, así que Tristán es una especie de "foreshadowing", un guiñito al futuro.

En cambio, el origen de Clara sí hace alusión a la colectividad más activa y presente en los inicios de Argentina, que es la comunidad andaluza. Actualmente, los andaluces son la segunda colectividad española más importante en Argentina, detrás de la gallega, pero ellos estuvieron allí consistentemente desde el principio.

Estoy barajando dos posibilidades con el origen de Clara, porque no me termino de decidir. Primeramente la imaginé como una mujer andaluza que conoció a Tristán en Cádiz, se casaron y vinieron juntos a América. Pero también considero la posibilidad de que ella sea la primera generación de mestizos en Asunción, hija de un andaluz y una mujer guaraní, y que al contraer nupcias con Tristán en el Paraguay, el nuevo matrimonio formó parte de las primeras corrientes de pobladores que se establecieron en el norte argentino y fundaron las ciudades de Santiago del Estero y Tucumán.

En cualquiera de los dos casos, ellos vienen del Paraguay a asentarse en el norte argentino, donde nace chikitina, y al año de su nacimiento (aproximadamente en los tardíos 1560s) sus padres mueren durante uno de los múltiples enfrentamientos con los pueblos nativos que eran hostiles a los españoles en la zona. Tristán muere por una infección en una herida mal curada, y Clara muere a los días, desprotegida, intentando escapar con su hija en brazos. Días más tarde, otros españoles encuentran el cuerpo inerte de Clara con la bebé intacta y prendida a su pecho, del cual aún salía leche. Lo consideran un milagro de La Providencia y se llevan a la bebé, quien pasa a estar al cuidado de unas monjas. Al cabo de unos años, las mujeres se dan cuenta de que chikitina no crece como una persona normal, y llegan a la conclusión de que su condición milagrosa es una señal de que ella es una de esas personas especiales, una aeternus.

Dan aviso a las autoridades y así Antonio eventualmente se entera de que ha aparecido una nueva inmortal, cosa que no es poco común en esta época de conquista, expansión y fundaciones. Antonio (o tal vez Fátima/Andalucía) la bautiza y le dan el nombre por el que la conocemos, Agustina García. Ella pasa a estar al cuidado de los mismos que cuidan a Tucumán y las provincias del norte, y así pasan décadas y siglos en los que Tina pasa su infancia temprana sin un rol definido. Técnicamente no tenía un "nombre geográfico" aún, pero ya desde ese entonces se referían a ella como "la Argentina", que en ese entonces hacía alusión a las tierras españolas al sur del Alto Perú. En 1776, chikitina recibe por primera vez un rol definido y se convierte en el Virreinato del Río de la Plata, se muda a Buenos Aires y el resto es historia.

¿Sabía Antonio que Tina lo miraba como un padre? No, pero no le resultaba extraño porque seguramente más de un latino lo miraba con esos ojos. Simplemente no tuvieron una relación personal lo suficientemente cercana como para darse cuenta de lo que anhelaba una de los muchos chiquillos del nuevo mundo.

¿Es intencional que sus paletas de colores sean parecidas? ¡Totalmente! Básicamente, concebí el diseño de Tina en 2010 de esta manera:

Y con respecto al tema de si hay alguna parte de su cuerpo que represente aspectos geográficos del país... realmente no, aunque me gusta imaginar que tiende a sufrir mucho frío en los pies, en alusión al sur del país jsjsj. También podríamos decir que su figura curvilínea y apariencia de mujer joven y fértil responden a la fertilidad de sus campos, pero eso es más bien una parte más de su construcción como alegoría. No hay referencias puntuales a lugares geográficos en su cuerpo ni en ninguno de mis ocs.

PD: Olvidé aclarar que Agustina no sabe absolutamente nada acerca de sus padres, ni su origen. No quedaron registros de su nacimiento y los españoles que la encontraron no pudieron identificar a su madre tampoco. Ella solo a veces trata de imaginar cómo pudieron ser sus padres, pero no le da muchas vueltas al asunto.

[quincyhorst]

Da Round-of-16 Brothers :D

(More info about the OCs below!!)

2nd Row:

Stane: Represents Slovenia, an unlikely team to reach the TOP 3 on his league group yet suceeded. The secret relies on Stane's coach/uncle Miroslav, who travelled all across europe as to learn each country's secrets. Secretly remorseful about it, Stane is willing to throw both the german/polish kids he's trained into the mud.

Cris: The portuguese captain, known as 'the navigator'. He inherited the love for the sea from his father, and he wants to include his navigation skills on tactics. Besides trying to keep his rivarly with France and Spain healthy (Which will reach its peak on the qualifier final), he also has to look over a particular pick for the team from Galicia.

"Vlad": Actually named Ladislau. He claims to be the descendant of a vampire/strigoi, but as intimidating as he tries to be he comes off as too much of a LARPer. Was meant to be Brockenborg's first FFI rival, but all his tricks were destroyed in said match. I apologize for any romanian who's reading this, I promise this is the only Dracula reference Romania's gonna get. Also if he looks familiar… It's not a coincidence (?)

Jurgen: He has been the captain of Netherlands previously, though a fierce battle with a rival team stole his win at a previous cup. He promises he won't repeat these mistakes, though he's willing to fight to become "THE lion of Europe". (You can guess who eliminated him.)

Noa: In a world where Haizaki isn't relevant, he'd be the 'devil of the field' instead. Probably the most powerful keeper in all of Europe (Besides Blasi?). He and Pierre share some history, sure, but believe it or not his true rival is Claude. The Babel and their excellent waffles started to dominate sales around Paris when the qualifiers started, becoming a menace for the Moreau baguette conglomerate. A fierce capitalist battle begins!!!

3rd Row:

Swiss guy: Sorry, I didn't came in time to give him a name, but I promise he has some relevance!!! His team is one of Brockenborg's rivals during the Euroleague group stage. The plan was also to make him Rose Griffon's 1st qualifier round rival, but midway though I replaced him with a funnier pick-

The danish and the georgian characters are just designs I had lying around in my mind, though they don't have any relevance. Both get eliminated by Slovenia and Poland respectively :( (This has ZERO correlation with current Euro events I swear. I have no idea how I predicted those....)

I had no designs for Austria and Slovakia unfortunately so I went with animals instead. The slovakian pick is the Tatra Chamois, which lives in the mountains of the same name. They're sooo cute ;_;

And Turkey... Don't ask me. Ask turkish mythology instead.

[atarahderek]

For the Encanto OC event, though given I'm trying to keep up with Inktober, I can't guarantee I'll have something ready for every week.

You can find the info for the event here, hosted by @encanto-extended-edition.

My fan character for Encanto is also a fan character for Wolfwalkers. He's depicted here in the style of Wolfwalkers, but will also appear in a style more similar to Encanto. The construction lines won't appear in the latter style, and they'll be much more subtle in future depictions in Wolfwalkers style.

Name: Séamus Goodfellowe-MacTire

Age at introduction: 17

Birthplace: Kilkenny County, Ireland

Bio: Séamus is descended from Bill Goodfellowe and Moll MacTire. He is, as far as he's been able to discern, the last surviving wolfwalker. His family has struggled with their identity since the extinction of the Irish wolf in the late 18th century, and has taken to breeding Irish wolfhounds since then. But after Séamus was orphaned and his secret came out, he was run out of Ireland, bringing a few of his family's dogs with him. He took refuge in Spain for a while, laying low among a Calé community in Galicia, who were sympathetic to his plight. They taught him Spanish and some Galician, and he was able to pick up a few words and phrases in Caló, though they never taught him their language directly, as he wasn't a full member of their community. Eventually, a combination of persecution against the Calé and suspicion surrounding an uptick in wolf activity in the region resulted in the Calé community having to relocate, and they strongly encouraged Séamus to move on, for his own safety as much as theirs.

Séamus had to leave his Spanish wolf friends behind, which deeply hurt, as they were the first actual wolves he'd ever met. But his dogs remained by his side. He decided to try his luck in Mexico, where he knew there would be wolves, and where many Irish had chosen to emigrate during the last great Irish diaspora. He took a boat from Lisbon, Portugal across the Atlantic, but storms forced them to make port in the Caribbean. Through a series of events Séamus considered bad luck initially, he wound up in Cartagena--well south of his intended target. The conflict happening in Colombia forced him further and further inland, and Séamus and his dogs all felt as if they were being pulled somewhere deep into the Andes. Along the way, Séamus ended up picking up a pack of bush dogs, who absolutely delighted him and the wolfhounds. They were the closest things Séamus could find to wolves in that strange land.

Séamus spent most of his early days in Colombia camping in the forest. Every night, he and two of his hounds would scout the trail ahead. And every night, they felt inexplicably pulled in a particular direction. So every following day, Séamus would gather his pack and head in the direction of the mysterious force.

And that's how they ended up in the Encanto.

He met Antonio first, thanks to the bush dogs. Later that same day, he met Mirabel, by then 16. His first night in the Encanto, he accidentally bit Mirabel, transferring the magic of the wolfwalker to her. Thus Mirabel became the first Colombian wolfwalker, and the only other wolfwalker in the world that Séamus knew of.

[eggman91]

My Lackadaisy oc

so everyone has ocs and so I do too and yes they may be cringe and since everyone does rocky x oc

Rhytina genrattie Vseolodona (or just rhythm that what rocky call her)

age 25

ethic russian born Minsk 1902

rhytina had been born to a minor russian aristocratic family in Belarus with 2 older siblings she being the youngest her father was a captain in a cavalry regiment and her mom was a German noblemen her childhood was fine she learn to play piano but before she could finish her violin lessons (her mom love violin )the revolution happened

she already lost two brothers in the Great War but the revolution toke everything she and her mother find refuge in the don with the white army there her father was away fighting and in Tsaritsyn her mother got ill and died there she was all alone

but after the evacuation of Crimea in 1920 she and her father was reunited, (not happily) but instead of taking them to any other Russian emirge enclave her father toke them to America why she didn’t know but here she is in St. Louis and she hate It

but after a fight with her father she when to a bridge and cries there she met a certain smiley cat she hear his speech about the Mississippi and she complimented it and so that start their friendship or something since she poor now after talking to rocky he teaching and helping her finish her mom violin lessons and form there a relationship grows

he find rocky to different form the men she knew and actually like his rhymes and find him to be a good man and funny one of few good thing in America to her minister rocky (also they can share the pain of losing someone mom and abandonment issues

appearance she a tall like 6.6 (why because rocky x tall lady)white cat with some grey spots her eyes are a pale blue her hair blonde she usual dress in more outdated stuff like 1900s like before ww1 because it what she has and her father isn’t wasting money

she been to Lackadaisy she used to think it was just a cafe but rocky did take her the speakeasy to cheer her up and treat her but she has mix feeling on it she hasn’t meet most of the cast but she met Calvin and Ivy and she met Nina once

Also the character profiles has a picture thing so here this

I make rhytine in like 10 minutes with random ideas and make her russian became I once did a whole project on the Russian ww1 revolution and civil war and that basically saved my grade that year

fun fact she goes to st.Michael the archangel church founded 1909 by Russian Austria-Hungarian and Galicia immigrants

So yeah that it states your opinions

[hahahax30]

Visenya at 13, hearing Aurelian’s full title for the first time: Ugh that’s so obnoxious, why would anyone want to be called something so ostentatious? I would never punish my son or the pages by making him have some long puffed up mama

Visenya at age 20, returning to the Spring Court for the first time in three years: Please use my son’s full title; His Exalted Highness, Crown Prince Theomore, heir to the throne of the Autumn Court and son of the Noble and Ancient House de Lioncourt

Visenya’s own title as High Queen is Her Exalted Majesty Visenya Astraea Regina of the Noble and Ancient House de Lioncourt, High Queen of the Autumn Court; which is obviously a mouthful so she shouldn’t be complaining but girl does love to brag

And yes Aurelian’s title was the same as Theomore’s back when he was Crown Prince

And yes, her naming her son Theomore is a spoiler

Please Riley, as someone who actually lives in a kingdom with a whole-ass king, I can tell you that that isn't a mouthful of a full name.

*My* King's full name (titles included) is: His majesty Felipe Juan Pablo Alfonso de Todos los Santos de Borbon y Grecia (aka Felipe VI of Spain), King of Spain, Castilla, Leon, Aragon Navarra, Granada, Jerusalem, Toledo, the Two Sicilies, Valencia, Galicia, Mallorca, Menorca, Sevilla, Sardinia, Cordoba, Murcia, Jaen, the Algarves, Algeciras, Gibraltar, the Canary Islands, the East and West Indies, the 'Isles and Lands of the Oceanic Sea', Hungary, Dalmatia and Croatia; Archduke of Austria; Duke of Burgundy, Brabant, Milan, Athens, Neopatras, Limburg, Lotharingia, Luxembourg, Gelderland, Styria, Carniola, Carinthia and Württemberg; Count of Habsburg, Flanders, the Tyrol, the Rousillon, Barcelona, Artois, Hainaut, Namur, Gorizia, Ferrette, Kyburg and Goceano; Count Palatine of Borgoña; Lord of Vizcaya, Molina, Salins-les-Bains, Mechelen, Slovenia, Pordenone and Tripoli; Landgrave of Alsace; Prince of Swabia; Marquis of Oristano; Margrave of the Holy Roman Empire and Burgau; Captain General of the Armed Forces; and I'll stop now but there are MORE

Because we have a parliamentary monarchy many of those titles hold no power or are merely symbolic (literally like the king himself because he does no-thing) and are reminiscent of the time we were the Spanish empire and total pieces of shit, but I do urge you to add more titles to your ocs lol

[reallunargift]

What if the origin of the Jogo do Pau was due to the fact that swords are dangerous, so... "Here! Take your wooden stick and go play with the kids" (wife saying this to an 40s old man 😂) It's like giving a bone to a dog, they get entertained so easily

Now related to Portugal... Yeah, wooden stick game was invented because playing with swords resulted in many fingers flying around 🤣🤣🤣 (just humor, I have history knowledge about the origin of the game. Just dudes being dudes playing with "sticks" 😏 cough cough)...

Sincerely, restricting Portugal of playing with his swords to play with a wooden stick with the excuse of "flying body parts", will only end with more violence 🤣 (I will restrain myself from giving details)

listen this is great and i love it but ofc Port not being allowed swords is what stuck with me bc i literally have a hc of Galicia taking his sword privileges away bc Portucale was the worst and

and so started the ancient tradition of jogo do pau

[kavkasia]

@hwsocshipweek | Day 4: Historical

Both Ukraine and Georgia have a long history of struggling against Russian domination. During the Russian Empire, the two often collaborated in their efforts for national liberation. Their respective deputies worked together during the First Russian State Duma, and Georgia and Ukraine both joined the Autonomists’ Union (an organization that demanded the decentralization of the Russian empire on the basis of national autonomy) alongside many others such as Belarus, Lithuania, Poland, Latvia, Estonia, and Azerbaijan.

While I wanted to use it to broadly represent their collaboration, this art is referencing a specific instance that took place in 1914. That year, Russia had defeated the Austro-Hungarian army and advanced into Eastern Galicia. Russian occupation proved to be heavy-handed, with forcible Russification of Galicia’s Ukrainians and persecution of non-Orthodox religions (as the majority of the population was Ukrainian Greek Catholic). Georgian leaders would later speak out against the treatment of Galician Ukrainians at the Fourth Russian State Duma in 1916, and for this, they would be excluded from future sessions of the State Duma for “violation of internal order”.